


Sleepless nights (and warm alternatives)

by nowhereminded



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Basically it's all fluff, Fluff, George just wants to get some rest, John is a bitch, M/M, Ringo is a softie, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowhereminded/pseuds/nowhereminded
Summary: George should change friends. And room.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 18
Kudos: 106





	Sleepless nights (and warm alternatives)

George couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He had seen the mischievous look in John's eyes when Brian, their manager, had told them that while they had four rooms, they were all connected. _He had seen it_ , he could have done something, but for some reason he had decided to ignore it. "Must have imagined it", he had thought. The poor fool.

Then, when John took all of the keys Brian was handing them and checked the numbers on each one before distributing them to his bandmates, he just shrugged it off. Maybe he wanted the room next to Paul's to compose with him, or just to have his best friend closer. Everyone knew they always ended up in the closest room to each other, if not the same, when they had to share. It was nothing important, for sure. Nothing to worry about at _all_.

Because what could possibly John want that depended on the room he got? Nothing, right? Right. Every room had the same mini fridge, the same nice views and the same small bottles of shampoo. Every room was identical to the rest, if only with minor changes on the position of the furniture. There was nothing that a room had and that the others lacked.

Except for Paul.

George realized (a tad too late) that the reason behind John's planning was no other than having a very easy, discreet access to Paul's room without taking the risk of waking up the others. Very smart, really, and George wouldn't have minded their little stratagem if Paul's bed wasn't on the wall next to George's. 

It was rather late when a very much awake George heard a voice in Paul's bedroom. He was in bed, reading, way too jet lagged to go to sleep. He paid it no mind, thinking Paul was talking in his sleep (or awake, like him), but then another voice followed, and then a laugh, and then he heard some noises, some fumbling and some more laughs and whispers. And then there was silence, until he recognized Paul's voice moaning and he jumped off of bed with the speed of a lightning.

What. The. Fuck. Neither him nor Ringo had ever minded John and Paul's relationship, loving them both too much to care about what the rest of the world could say. They had been supportive, confident friends who had their besties backs when needed and who knew when to invent an excuse and leave the room. George would always stand up for them if necessary and would do close to anything for them, but listening their sex noises at two in the morning wasn't one of those things.

He paced through his room for a couple of minutes, unsure about what to do. Should he knock on the wall so that they knew he was still awake? It wasn't like he didn't want them to have some fun, and he wasn't completly sure they'd hear him anyway. Or just ignore him.

He let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair. Dammit. He was still considering his options when a low, very clear moan that sounded a lot like John went through the wall and into his ears. Well, hm, fuck. He didn't know what to do but he certanly knew what not to do, and that was staying there listening to his friends having sex. So he did the only thing he could think of: he opened the door that connected his room to Ringo's room and got in.

Once inside he felt out of place, like an intruder, specially when he heard a soft mumble from what he could only deduce was the bed. It was very dark compared to his room, where he had a night lamp on, but as his eyes grew used to the darkness he noticed it looked exactly like his room, but opposed, like a mirror. It was easy finding the bed that way, and by the time he reached it he could tell Ringo was already awake.

"Hey," he whispered, still trying to disturb his friend as little as possible.

"Hey..." Ringo answered, sleep heavy in his voice. "What is it?"

George hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Uhm..."

All of a sudden, Ringo incorporated and suddenly looked completly awake. "You alright? Something happened?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that." George was quick to correct, last thing he wanted being worrying Ringo. "I'm alright, Richie, calm down. " he insisted, only then seeing his older friend relax once again. He sighed. "It's just... John and Paul are... Well, John went to Paul's room and Paul's room is next to mine and they're, _you know_ , and Paul's bed is next to mine and I'm hearing _everything_..." he explained, playing with his fingers as if it was his fault his horny friends had decided to wake everyone up with their stupid love session.

Ringo looked at him for a couple of seconds, as if expecting him to continue, an obvious "And?" painted in his face. George had hoped he would understand without having to explain himself, but aparently nothing was going well that night.

"I was hoping— and it's alright if you don't want to, but, can I sleep with you? As in, I mean, can we share the bed? Their sounds don't get this far and I guess I could sleep on the armchair or something but—"

He was interrupted by Ringo sighing. "It's just that," he whispered. "You had me worried for a minute there, Geo." he explained with a little smile, before moving to a side of the bed and lifting the covers. "Hop in, love."

George felt as if all the tension he had been piling up left is body the second Ringo pronounced those words. He smiled and got in the bed, quickly covering himself with the soft blanket. They were facing each other, and suddenly George started to feel his eyelids very heavy. "Thank you, Richie." he whispered with a soft smile.

"It's alright. I wouldn't want to hear that either." he joked, smiling as well.

"Sorry for waking you up." George added.

"It's alright, love. You know you can wake me up whenever you need to." Ringo whispered, still smiling. George mirroed him and let out a tired sigh. "Were you sleeping when you heard them?" Ringo asked, lifting a hand to George's hair and starting to caress it softly. He used to do that when they were in a plane or a car, and he knew George was tired but couldn't fall asleep. It helped the younger one relax, and Ringo wouldn't admit it outloud, but watching him slowly drift off to sleep actually relaxed him too, helped him get rid of the stress.

George shook his head and let out a soft sound of approval at Ringo's attention. "'Was reading..." he murmured.

"What were you reading?"

"Mmm... some poetry... but I couldn't understand half of it..." he answered, his eyes slowly closing.

Ringo laughed faintly at the tender picture he had in front of him, but didn't stop the treatment to George's hair. "Happens to me all the time with poetry."

George smiled and, without noticing, he felt himself getting closer and closer to the older one until Ringo's arm was covering his waist. The gesture was made with such casualness that one could think they did this every night.

George tucked his head in the crook of Ringo's neck and nodded. "Yeah, y'smell nice." he murmured, and by the way he phrased it it seemed as if he was having a conversation with himself.

The vibrations of Ringo's soft laugh made George shiver and smile. "I do?"

"Y'smell like the hotel's shampoo." he informed him.

Ringo bowed his head a little bit and sniffed George's hair. "You don't. You didn't take a shower, eh?" he teased with a smile.

"I shower in the morning." was George's response, muffled by Ringo's neck.

"I know." Ringo whispered before tugging the younger one closer to him in a tight hug.

Then, a comfortable silence fell upon them, and George found himself absently playing with Ringo's necklace until the sole movement of his fingers felt too hard to keep up. He didn't realize the moment he fell asleep.

The morning after, they were both uncomfortably awoken by John's voice.

"C'mon, get up!" he said before walking into Ringo's room after finding George wasn't in his bed. When he saw them both in Ringo's bed, limbs tangled and hugging each other, he made a disgusted noise. "Jesus, lovebirds do you have to be so obvious? Honestly, there are other people here too, you know. We don't appreciate having your loving sessions pushed down our throats, you know."

George couldn't believe what he was hearing.

**Author's Note:**

> It's 2:37 in the morning and I really wish I had a Ringo in my bed to gimme some good pat pats in the head
> 
> hope you liked it!


End file.
